Savannah’s sister is marrying the man who broke her heart. To survive the wedding, she brings her best friend as her fake fiancé. But as pretend kisses start to feel real, Savannah must choose—keep the act going, or risk everything for the man who’s been by her side all along.
“Yes,” I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. “Good.” He drew me closer, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead, a gesture that felt like a definitive end to our conversation. “I’m just looking out for you. The sooner that wedding takes place, the sooner you can close that chapter for good. And after…
I swallowed hard, unable to maintain the connection. My eyes slipped away, seeking refuge. “Please, Sav.” Words eluded me. I had always been open with Alyssa, my favorite sibling, sharing my thoughts without hesitation. But now, I felt paralyzed. How could I convey the complexity of my feelings? As if she could sense my turmoil,…
Raising my hand again, I sought to end this conversation. “Alyssa, please.” She nodded slowly, as if she had come to terms with the fact that I would never confront this issue in the way she hoped. “I’ll go. But just know that I love you, and I’m looking out for you.” Why does everyone…
“You’re pathetic,” she spat, her finger trembling as she pointed at me. “You can’t stand the thought of me having something you don’t, so you had to steal it. Well, congratulations, Sav-you just made an enemy.” The silence that followed was thick and suffocating, an ugly tension hanging in the air. Somewhere in the crowd,…
I swallowed hard, uncertain of how to navigate the brewing storm that was angry Roman. Even after five years of friendship-and a few days of whatever this complicated situation was-my instincts were still on high alert. Best friends with benefits? Friends with complications? I had no idea what label to attach to us anymore. So,…
“But the thing about Dean,” Henry continued, tilting his glass in Dean’s direction with a flourish, “is that he’s a man who likes to… explore his options before settling down.” The laughter that followed was scattered and uneasy, and I felt my stomach twist in knots. Roman, sitting beside me, had his jaw clenched so…
Our eyes locked, and my throat went dry, but a rush of heat pooled low in my belly. There was an insatiable hunger in his gaze, a primal need that mirrored my own. “Roman…” I breathed, the sound barely escaping my lips. His hand gripped my jaw, tilting my face up to his. “You have…
“But you wouldn’t let me…” “Not until you ask,” he replied simply, his fingers pressing into my thighs to keep me spread. “Say it. Beg me.” My pride flared hot, and I shook my head, panting. “I don’t beg.” He chuckled low in his throat. “Then you don’t come.” He continued his maddening teasing-slow flicks,…
“Every time I close my eyes, I see you under me, on top of me, gasping my name,” he continued, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine. His hand slid from my thigh to my throat, not squeezing-just holding, just reminding me of his power. “Look at me,” he demanded, his…
I tilted my head, skepticism coloring my tone. “You’re serious?” Roman leaned in, his forehead almost touching mine, his breath still uneven as he searched my eyes. “Dead serious.” I tried to roll my eyes, to dismiss the weight of his words, but the intensity of his gaze held me captive. “That’s not how this…